


Shirtless Jugglers and Drunken Knights

by RealtaCuardach



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Friendship, Gen, Humor, also, juggling!Merlin should be a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealtaCuardach/pseuds/RealtaCuardach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwaine and ale was never a good combination, especially when he had that expression on his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shirtless Jugglers and Drunken Knights

When Gwaine wore that particular smirk, it could only mean trouble. Anytime that Gwaine had an overflowing abundance of alcohol, it could only lead to trouble.

So when Merlin found himself cornered at Gaius' table by Gwaine, who was bearing both that infamous smirk and an overflowing jug of ale, he knew that he was doomed.

"Merlin!" Gwaine boomed, abandoning his two-fisted grip on the jug to smack Merlin jovially between the shoulder blades, "Come on!"

Merlin nearly smacked head first into the stained wooden top of the table, pulling himself just out of the way of the curiously bubbling medicines he was tending. He straightened up, rubbing his shoulder blades as he laughed. "Where?"

"Where?" Gwaine asked with exuberance, gesturing wildly and sending the ale splashing in all directions, "Where not is the real question! And I know for a fact," Gwaine continued, wiggling his eyebrows, "that Gwen will be keeping the princess occupied tonight." Gwaine grinned rakishly as the tips of his friend's ears turned a bright red. " _All_ night."

Merlin covered his face with one hand and groaned. "Thanks, Gwaine, I really needed that image in my head."

A few weeks after Arthur and Gwen had gotten married, Merlin had entered their chambers in his usual fashion of not-knocking, only to be treated to a show that turned his ears a bright red for the rest of the day. The intense redness of his ears combined with Arthur's more stoic than usual expression led to general roars of laughter and ribbing from the knights, although Elyan held back, looking pained at the thought of his sister being involved in any marital activities.

Merlin knocked more often in the mornings now, although the rest of the time he just barged in.

"Come on, mate," Gwaine continued, needling, "we haven't done anything together that hasn't been work or cleaning up after her highness in weeks!"

Merlin grinned and looked over at Gaius, snoring lightly on his cot. "Okay."

"Let's go then!" Gwaine boomed in a manner that was unnecessarily loud given that there was a man sleeping in the room, and hauled Merlin bodily from the bench. Some bottles rocked back and forth dangerously and, as Gwaine's eyes were closed, Merlin's eyes flashed gold and the bottles righted themselves. Slinging an arm around Merlin's shoulders, Gwaine propelled them out of the room and into the hallway.

~.~

As the barmaid placed two mugs of ale in front of the two men, Merlin quirked an eyebrow at Gwaine. "What about that?" he asked, inclining his head towards the full flask Gwaine had brought.

Gwaine patted the flask proprietarily and grinned. "The night is young, my friend, and there is much more drinking to be done. Besides," he added as he picked up the mug and held it expectantly towards Merlin's, "you owe me a round."

Merlin quirked an eyebrow as he raised his mug up as well. "Why's that?" he asked as he clinked his mug against Gwaine's.

"You broke my heart," Gwaine said dramatically, placing his hand on his heart as his fringe swung into his face, causing several barmaids to squeal. "Alcohol is all that can take away the pain."

"How'd I break your heart?"

Gwaine looked at him very seriously. "You didn't hug me."

Merlin blinked. "Wait, what?"

"You almost die... _again_ , mate," Gwaine drawled out, with just enough of a genuine glint of hurt to keep Merlin from laughing, "and I sit by you waiting for you to get better. And when I try to hug you...you just up and run away, off to save the day."

The barmaids were now looking at Merlin as though he eviscerated puppies for sport. Merlin nearly cringed under the glares and raised both eyebrows at Gwaine. "Well, that was only after you left me for _dead_ after we rescued you from Morgana."

Gwaine had guilt mixed with the laughter now in his eyes and as one both men got up to hug each other, the buzz of alcohol compelling them.

And then Gwaine spilled his ale on Merlin and it all went to hell.

~.~

Merlin hiccupped leisurely, and slouched against the log near the campfire, drowsily moving his leg away from the flames a second too late to keep it from getting burned. He yelped slightly and his hand ghosted down over the red skin. His eyes glinted in the glow of the campfire and as his palm fell away, the redness of the skin had receded. If Gwaine didn't know better, he might have thought the burn had totally disappeared.

He stared remorsefully at the dregs of ale at the bottom of his flask and took a healthy swig. He was far more concerned with the depressingly lower levels of alcohol than with strangely healing burns.

Merlin didn't seem too concerned himself with the possibly nonexistent burn, instead readjusting his scarf which hung, limp with spilled ale, on his bare chest. Despite their best intentions to dry the sodden shirt by the fire, they'd only succeeded in singing one of the sleeves completely off. And since not even Percival could pull off the one-sleeved tunic (despite his previous success with sleeveless suits of chainmail) they'd given up the whole thing as a bad job and just tossed it into the fire. Both had watched with blurry eyed interests at the odd sparks of color that emitted from the flames before turning back to their cups.

Gwaine glared slightly at Merlin's bare and slightly built chest, it being the cause of their hasty ejection from the third tavern they'd gone to. How was he to know that spilling ale all over Merlin's shirt would lead to some enthusiastic girl pulling it off to launder it in an astonishingly helpful way for a stranger? And then a series of increasingly enthusiastic girls had come over to both of them for some reason - some batted their eyes at Gwaine but the rest seemed to be trying to help Merlin in his shirtless state by covering as much of the bare chest as they could.

It was a nice thing to do, and a shame that they'd managed to knock over all of the glasses on the counter, two stools, and an older gentleman at the end of the bar who not only had a bad hip but was the great grandfather of the tavern keeper. They'd been asked to leave, although Gwaine had trouble hearing the words through the dirt that had lodged in his ears after he'd been thrown out the door.

"Can you juggle?"

Gwaine shook his head slowly to clear it before looking at Merlin, who was grinning largely, the tips of his lips nearly meeting his ears. He still hadn't let go of his mug, but his other hand was clutching three dates in his long fingers.

"Nah, mate," Gwaine barked lazily, "and bet you can't either."

"Can too," Merlin insisted, "Watch!"

And without preamble Merlin flung his empty mug to the side and began to toss the dates in a smooth arc above his head. At first, he sent the three dates in a smooth cycle between his two hands, only glancing at the dates occasionally, preferring to grin at Gwaine in a drunken and thoroughly smug way. The dates were being to make an odd sucking noise as the juice spread stickily across his palms when Merlin decided to juggle with only one hand. That was it was much easier for him to swipe Gwaine's mug and gulp the last dregs of ale.

"Hey!" Gwaine shouted petulantly, but Merlin merely shot him a winning smile that was sagging slightly at the edges before heaving the mug into the air and sending the dates after them. His eyes gleamed from the firelight as he heaved the four objects high into the air, Gwaine watching with interest and a small degree of envy.

"I could do that!"

Gwaine picked up two waterskins and an apple and began trying to toss them into the air. He did a fair job with the two waterskins, but the apple proved to be one item too many. With a squawk of concern for the apple that had begun to roll far too close to the fire, Gwaine sprung forward only to trip and fall backwards. While on his knees.

Merlin laughed and straightened up, apple clutched in one hand. Gwaine growled. "Give 'at back!"

"Gotta catch it first," Merlin slurred, grinning, and with that he got to his feet and darted beyond Gwaine's reach, throwing the apple to an unnecessarily large height in the air. Gwaine, never one to back down from a challenge, got to his feet.

And Merlin, who was notorious for fits of clumsiness on the best of days, somehow was managing to run backwards and juggle at the same time. His eyes somehow glowing from the fire that was twenty feet away, he grinned as he ducked and weaved about, evading Gwaine. No matter how Gwaine tried, he could never grab the apple, which at times seemed to hover above their heads in a way that defied gravity.

Their roars of laughter and loud curses as they tripped in the grass echoed in the clearing for most of the night.

~.~

Gwaine looked up blearily, the stirrings of a hangover begin to pulse with a dull familiarity at the front of his skull. He was wearing all his clothes, which was often a good sign, although the absence of a lovely female was somewhat disappointing. He cleared his throat and worked his tongue about to loosen it.

He pulled up and stretched his arms, sighing with satisfaction as his shoulders popped. As he glanced across the plumes of smoke of the dying campfire, he saw Merlin stretched out on the grass, shirt still off, snoring with his hand still clutching the apple.

Gwaine smirked and made his way silently over to his sleeping friend. He waved one hand in front of Merlin's face to make sure he was asleep before slyly prying open Merlin's fist to grab the apple.

The knight flopped down on the grass to watch the first streams of the sunrise peaking over the treetops. He took a healthy bite of his apple, and looked down at Merlin. "You know," he said conversationally through a mouthful of apple, "it's a good thing I knew about your magic. I don't know how much alcohol I'd have to drink to think things were flying."

Merlin didn't stir but a smile tilted his lips. Gwaine took another crunch of his apple, and grinned at the start of a new day.


End file.
